Dragons of the Ice

By C. L. Kraemer

Unexpected dragon shiftings have increased since the conference in China. More deaths being covered up inexplicably sends Lee Svensson to Japan to investigate from the Swedish Embassy. Why is it World Watch, Inc., a marketing company, is always on site when a shifter dies? Lee is charged to find out. When the husband of his wife’s best friend discovers an account he is managing, World Watch, Inc., is manipulating oil companies by buying up all available stocks, the two realize their paths are the same. Now that their wives have announced the impending births of dragonlings, it is imperative the men solve this riddle. An American dragoness shifter and former full blood warrior dragon will prove courage comes in all sizes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
• Release date: Jan 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781624203336

Book preview

Chapter One

Stockholm, American Embassy

Jody shoved open the hallway entry, the ring of her high heels echoing around the marble surroundings. Heaving the door to her office open as hard as she could, she was disappointed in the lack of noise.

Hideous quiet-closers. She looked up and glared at the mechanical device the maintenance crew had been instructed to install on all the entrances to her offices. Some anonymous someone complained her outbursts were too uncivilized and raucous.

Me? Don't be ridiculous. I'm just―honest.

Sailing past the disconcertingly calm receptionist in the outer room, she thumped into her office, tossing the stack of files the supervisor assigned onto her desk. They skittered across the smooth blonde top and landed in a jumbled pile next to the rubbish can.

Darn it. Should have aimed better.

She dropped into the sleek black leather chair and brought her feet up to the waist high windowsill. She crossed them at the ankle and gazed morosely into the darkening sky of Stockholm. Her eyes, chocolate brown with large golden flecks, were not seeing the spires and rapidly rising mosques. She knew why she was here.

I'm being silenced. Templing her fingers under her chin, she furrowed her brow and stared out in hopes of catching a glimpse of the aurora borealis.

"Must've been that last kerfluffle in Pakistan. Don't know why they're so grumpy. They found him. Took them a little bit longer, but the end result was what they wanted."

The phone on her desk jangled, and Jody dropped her feet from the sill to the floor. She contemplated letting the call go through to the answer machine, but her disgustingly honest receptionist wouldn't lie about her whereabouts. The woman worked directly for Jody's supervisor and was, truth be told, only around to keep tabs on her.

Jody Waldon. Silence met her greeting. You've got five seconds to state your business or I hang up. If you haven't heard, I have no tolerance for games. Starting now… one, two…

If you cease to pursue your current line of inquiry, your secret will be revealed to everyone in your agency. The soft male voice ended the command by hanging up, the audible click an irritation in Jody's ear.

She looked at the instrument in her hands and quietly swore. Idiot. Threats don't scare me.

But the caller rattled her with his knowledge. To the best of Jody's understanding, no one in the embassy had awareness of her true status. She belonged to a unique group of individuals who shared their forms with mythical creatures; she was a dragon shapeshifter. Not having the identification of who fathered her, she'd become aware of her ability to shift into the form of a dragon only when her mother imparted the facts as she was dying.

~ * ~

Belinda Gentle Fawn Kingfisher begged her daughter to keep the family secret. She was so adamant; she insisted Jody swear to never tell a soul. Her final request was for the young Cherokee woman to Anglicize her name.

One day you will thank me, daughter. No one can know this curse I burdened on you―no one. Belinda pointed to the deerskin pouch hanging from the center pole of the teepee.

"There is a written account from before you were conceived. The explanation is in the pages. You'll find it difficult to believe, but it is the truth. On the final page, there is a name you must contact for instructions on how to live your life in the world of the two-leggeds. She smiled slightly. Your father was very fond of using the term to keep me in my place."

Belinda began to cough uncontrollably and lost consciousness. Three days later, she died and Jody finally opened the diary. The contents turned her world upside down. In a time when most white men could not read, Jody's mother had forced her to learn what the strange scribbles on the thin sheets represented. It would serve her as well as her hunting skills.

~ * ~

Having been thoroughly chewed out, and now threatened, Jody was ready to call it a day. Her current assignment was to stay low and not cause any scenes.

I can do that better in my house. She leaned over and gathered up the scattered folders. Locating an empty file drawer, she deposited the manila containers inside with the silent promise to organize―tomorrow.

I'm heading home for pizza and beer. The rest of the world can go hang.

She picked up her briefcase and nodded at the surprised receptionist on her way out.

Her anonymous caller may have been annoying, but his insistence she follow her current line of investigation let her know she was on the right path.

You can count on the fact I'll continue with the questions, Mr. No Name.

As the door whooshed shut, Jody strolled to her 1955 Chevy Belair. It was the one extravagance she'd insisted on bringing with her from the US. The next few months would probably be the only time she'd be able to drive it here in Sweden. By the time autumn rolled around, her baby would be safely tucked away in the garage of the home the embassy had provided.

A quick sigh and she turned the key to bring the engine to life.

Home.

Chapter Two

Japan

The flight to Tokyo was tedious and Lee Svensson was not a good traveler. Airplanes exacerbated his claustrophobia, and the air turbulence upset his stomach. He disembarked with the passengers heading into the terminal. It never ceased to amaze him how polite Japanese travelers were. The walkways, while crowded, found the citizens accommodating to one another and foreigners. Lee located his luggage at the baggage retrieval. A close by kiosk offered instructions for the second leg of his journey. He purchased a rail ticket to Sapporo and flagged a vacant taxi willing to take him to the station. After settling in his window seat, Lee opted to close his eyes and allow the gentle movement of the bullet train lull him to sleep. There were two changes to make before he reached his destination far to the north of Tokyo in the Hokkaido prefecture.

This was his first trip away from Olga since they'd wed before the spring conference. If there hadn't been so much evidence against the target, he would've passed off this assignment to another. The nature of the investigation, however, required his presence at the offices in Sapporo.

Sir? Excuse me, sir. We're at your stop.

The uniformed train attendant woke him, opting to gently rouse the stranger.

"Domo arigato."

She smiled, a shy affair showing a small dimple in her right cheek.

You're welcome, sir.

Lee rose from the seat and stretched his muscles. He was facing one more transfer then eight hours of sleep. His meeting wasn't for two more days, but he felt the need to be rested. He'd be glad when he could stop moving and call Olga. She'd been acting very odd before he left yesterday. Was it just yesterday? He shook his head realizing his sense of timing had flown out the window after several time zone changes.

The second transfer was quickly accomplished as Lee settled his briefcase next to him. Safely ensconced in his seat on the final leg of his journey, his eyelids began to drift toward his cheeks.

The ring of his cell phone startled him awake.

Hello? Olga! Good heavens, what time is it there?

He listened to the voice of his lifemate, feeling tightness in his shoulders disappear. His lips slid into a smile and he stretched his legs before him.

I know, my love, but just put up with her while I'm gone. She is, after all, the one who promoted you to the council and encouraged them to use your work.

The countryside was giving way to homes. Lee straightened and started checking around his seat for anything he may have left.

What? Olga? What did you just say?

The sound must've been distorted by such a long distance.

Olga? Let me call you back. We're at the final station, and I need to get to my hotel room. I'll be able to hear you better from a landline. Okay?

He sensed she wasn't thrilled but clicked off his phone knowing she would wait for his call. Lee made his way to the hotel and his room.

Showering away two days of travel, he reveled in the hot water sluicing down his body chasing away the aches and pains of sitting for so long. Over-sized, terrycloth towels specifically set out for him as per his reservation request, warmed and relaxed the remaining weariness from his bones. The urgency to sleep was exerting power over his need to speak to his wife. He shook off the need to sleep. He'd better call Olga or she'd worry unnecessarily.

Once he'd gone through the hotel's phone exchange, he waited on the bed as the phone rang at the other end.

Hello?

Finally. Hi, sweetheart. I couldn't quite hear everything you were saying while I was on the train. Now, what did you want me to know?

He sat listening to his wife relay the news to him. This changes everything.

I think we best talk seriously about this when I get home. I'll be here for at least a week following up on a… situation. The outcome here will determine my next assignment. I miss you, Olga.

I miss you, too, Lee. Be safe. If this has anything to do with the events at the spring meeting, I want you to promise me you'll be especially vigilante.

I promise, love. I'll call you every day.

Stunned, he crawled beneath the covers depositing the damp towel on the chair next to the bed. Before he thought to turn out the light, his eyes betrayed him and closed.

Lee Svensson was sound asleep, the worries of the coming day temporarily forgotten.

Chapter Three

Japan

Lee gazed at the reflection staring back at him. He'd become so used to cloaking his eyes that this move to leave them natural disconcerted him a bit. He completed dressing and headed for the hotel's restaurant.

He let a smile touch his lips as he thought about the rice porridge and broiled fish. He couldn't get Olga to serve it at home so he was relishing the treat. Opting for a table facing the street, he ordered and sipped his coffee while waiting. The changing sky fascinated him; one moment the blue beckoned him to abandon his work and go fishing, the next clouds rolled in and threatened rain.

He started when he looked at the table and found his breakfast in front of him. The white uniform clad waitress was quietly slipping back to the kitchen. I love the consideration of the Japanese. Lee dug into his food with gusto. He'd not eaten a warm meal in thirty-six hours, and his stomach was loudly complaining. Finishing with a warm, damp towel to his fingers, Lee leaned back in his chair and considered his next step.

Reports were filtering through his office regarding the disappearance of Swedish citizens and embassy soldiers in Japan. The vanishings were being reported in Sweden as well. Not many who lived there voluntarily chose to leave. His office disregarded most of the claims and put the details on the back burner. But his senses, his dragon senses, made his skin prickle and scales rustle. An ominous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach set him to questioning his superiors. They'd grown tired of his persistent doubts regarding their methods.

As it appears your decade of military service makes you feel you're more accomplished at this than Verner and myself, we're assigning these reports to you. Lycka till! You'll need it. Lee's boss stomped out of his office leaving a towering stack of files teetering on the edge of his desk.

Lee signed his name to the breakfast bill, putting his room number at the bottom, and gathered his belongings. His human counterparts had no idea how important the instances of missing persons would become; not just to the shifter community but to the two-legged community as well. He signaled a taxi and gave the address in the Higashi-ku district, sitting back and taking in the city sights. The streets were busy with shoppers and tourists, but Lee didn't get the rushed sensation he'd felt in European towns of the same size.

The Swedish embassy's sleek modern look was not at odds with the surroundings. Quite the contrary, the neighboring buildings seemed to have adopted similar architectural lines, embracing the glass and steel so popular in his country. He paid the cabbie and thanked him, disembarking from the vehicle and staring at the facade in front of him. Standing here looking at the office won't get the job done. Let's get a move-on.

He walked through the security station, giving up his briefcase and undergoing the less than invasive check of his person. When the detector beeped, he indicated he needed to reach into a pocket. The guard eyed him suspiciously, watching his every move as Lee pulled a folded sheet of paper with two fingers from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He thrust the paper toward the guard and resumed his stance.

The embassy policeman opened the paper with one hand as he simultaneously unsnapped the weapon strapped to his side. Quickly scanning the document, the guard's only reply was to grunt and secure his pistol. The paper was shoved at him when the guard waved him through to the reception desk. Lee grabbed his briefcase, making his way to the counter. A smiling, fair complexioned younger woman greeted him.

Good morning, sir. Can I help you?

Yes, I believe I'm a bit early, but I have an appointment with the ambassador at 8:30 am. My name is Lee Svensson. He pulled out his military identification and presented the plastic encased card to her.

She looked at the picture on the card then keyed information to her computer.

Oh, yes. I see it here on the calendar. Please take a seat over there. She waved a delicate hand to an area set up in the center of the room. The beech wood chairs had been carefully arranged in a conversational setting to encourage visitors to feel comfortable. Haggå-patterned material covered the couches, lending a feel of Swedish flair to the area. Lee chose a seat with a view of the door. He pulled his laptop from the briefcase. Starting up the computer, he aimed the camera lens toward the entrance. Here, he needed to employ a bit of acting if he was to insure no one would suspect him.

The atrium-styled lobby echoed each time the door opened, making subterfuge difficult. Lee tapped lightly on the keys, not depressing any but the lens button, with each new visitor. He checked the timer at the bottom. Twenty minutes had passed since he'd checked in, and the receptionist had yet to announce him. Gritting his teeth together to hold back his impatience, he was about to get up and reintroduce himself when a new visitor caught his attention.

The man was a mountain. Taller than Lee at over six and one half feet, his ill-fitting suit emphasized the mass of human being captured beneath the cloth. He clumped up to the security area.

Lee leaned back in his chair and watched the events unfold on his computer screen.

The guard stood up, staggering backwards as his eyes scanned the new visitor.

Giant man pulled out identification and tossed it on the table in front of the screening machine.

With practiced slowness, the security guard picked up the ID while not taking his eyes off the Goliath before him.

Lee tapped up the volume to hear the interchange.

Mr.… The guard cleared his throat and swallowed. Watanabe. I'll need you to walk between the posts… He looked up at the massive human. Please.

Lee smothered a grin. I've got to see how this turns out.

Placing his car keys in the provided tray, the big man stood, blocking light from the front windows.

Okay, sir, you can go through. The squeaked instructions reverberated throughout the concrete and steel atrium.

Lee watched the massive man walk up and turn sideways to get through the metal detector. He held his breath. The large human he now knew was Mr. Watanabe sailed past the arch with nary a sound. Upon exiting the detector, he grabbed his keys and placed them in his jacket pocket.

The guard, hand-held detector at the ready, took one look at the ferocious expression facing him and opted to take the easy way out.

Thank you, sir. You may pass.

Lee couldn't help himself and chuckled, drawing a dagger-laced glance from the giant. He pulled in a breath as, in that split second; the man dropped his cloaking to show his gold eyes and red scales. Lee coughed.

Holy mackerel. The guy must be huge in his dragon form.

Mr. Svensson? The receptionist broke his concentration.

"Yes?

The ambassador will see you now. Please continue to the fifth floor secretary and she'll direct you from there.

Lee shut down his computer and trotted to the elevator. It wasn't until he was inside the lift, he realized he was sharing the ride with the giant.

The man stared straight ahead.

Lee pushed the fifth floor button and tried to keep his anxiety in check. The elevator stopped, a female voice announcing in Swedish and Japanese the third floor. The giant stepped to the doors. Upon opening, he stuck a foot in the track and turned to Lee.

Enjoy your visit, brother.

He was gone before Lee had an opportunity to respond. Somehow, he didn't think the large man was a representative of the Chamber of Commerce sent to welcome him.

The elevator slid shut and he pushed out a breath. Close… too close.

The large man, Mr. Watanabe, knew he was a shifter. Lee had no doubt in his mind. The silky female voice again announced the floor, and Lee departed to face the secretary mentioned by the receptionist in the lobby.

Mr. Svensson? The surprised expression on her face was something he faced continuously. About to let loose his irritation, Lee realized she might be responding to his gold eyes as opposed to his oriental looks. This young woman was Japanese; yet she'd spoken to him in perfect Swedish. It was his turn to look surprised.

"Yes. I'm here to see the ambassador on an urgent matter.

She dropped her eyes. Please accept my apologies. Your eyes are quite lovely. It must be wonderful to experience good fortune throughout your life.

Lee stopped for a moment. She's congratulating me on my gold eyes? He'd read somewhere the Japanese considered gold-eyed, black cats to be good luck. His black hair and oriental looks combined with his unveiled gold eyes must have triggered the secretary's remark. Better than the usual responses.

He graced her with a rare smile. I'm very fortunate to have good luck follow me.

She picked up the phone and announced him to the party at the other end.

Mr. Svensson is here. Yes, sir. She rose and moved from behind her desk. Please follow me, sir.

Lee trailed behind the young woman, taking in the rich carpet and upscale furniture. Glass walled offices slipped past as they headed down the hallway toward a closed door crafted in carved blonde wood. The secretary knocked tentatively.

Enter.

She turned to Lee. Please go in.

He turned the brushed nickel handle and entered the room.

Behind the antique desk sat the Ambassador. Blonde locks glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window. Nels Lundquist looked up, and his sapphire eyes crinkled with the large grin covering his face. He stood, all 6'7" of him, and extended a tanned hand.

Lee. How terrific to see you. I'm glad you could make it.

Lee set his briefcase on the floor and slipped his hand inside Nels'.

Nels? It's been too long. How are you? I see… he held up the tanned extremity, you're still hitting the links.

Nels pumped the younger man's hand enthusiastically.

Yeah and still losing like crazy. You'd think I'd find a better hobby. With a wave of his hand, he indicated Lee should sit.

If I remember correctly, you were pretty darn good at hockey and coached an Olympic Gold Medal Team in 1994.

Nels leaned back in the chair. Yeah. Those were the days. Unfortunately, I experienced one fight too many. When I'd broken my collarbone for the third time, my wife threatened to leave me. Don't know why, but I took her seriously.

Both men chuckled. Lee knew very well Nels worshiped Johanna, his wife. They'd gone through the end of the Mage Wars together, and she was a fearsome warrior in her own right.

What can I do for you, Lee? Nels settled in his chair.

I've been receiving some disturbing reports from the field regarding occurrences here.

Nels leaned forward and started to say something.

Lee held up his hand. "Yes, we have plenty on our hands back home. The reason I was sent here is my familial connections. I have uncles living at the north end of the island. They're...uhm, monitoring the air waves." He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point.

Nels nodded. I understand. There've been numerous incidents where we've been called by the authorities. Officially, we can't get involved.

Unofficially?

We sent out investigators to validate the claims.

What did you find?

Very disturbing circumstances. Folks going about their daily routines suddenly change in the middle of town or at the shopping center.

Lee slumped in his chair. It was as he feared. Reports had trickled from America about something similar, but nothing could be verified.

Nels continued. Panic seems to be at a minimum as the Japanese aren't immune to the idea of our kind and the Ancients among the populace. The local cops show up and, with surprising speed, another group of people dressed as prefecture road workers appear. The cops are handed paperwork and disappear into the crowd. Accident tape goes up, then tarps, and within an hour, the scene appears as nothing more than roadwork.

I've assigned Marcus Alrikson, my deputy, to cover the news outlets for any information he can obtain. So far nothing. Whoever these people are, they are very careful.

Lee worried his lip with his teeth. This was far worse than initially reported.

How many of us are here?

Nels opened a bottom drawer and retracted a manila file folder. A quick glance at the paperwork inside provided him what he needed.

Of the fifty staff I employ, there are four of us.

That's spreading it pretty thin. Anybody experiencing any unusual changes?

Nels shook his head. Not to my knowledge.

Do you have a notepad and pencil I might borrow?

Nels lifted a brow. Sure. Opening his desk drawer, he supplied the items to Lee.

Lee spent a moment scribbling on the pad and shoved it to Nels.

Can't be too careful. Realized after you mentioned 'us', we should have done this sooner. Who are the rest of the shifters?

Nels read the message and chuckled. Lee, in his job at the Criminal Investigation Division—CID for short, was always acting as though the world was involved in cloak-and-dagger. He'd play along.

My second in command who I've already mentioned, Marcus, the Deputy Head of Mission, is one of us, but he's currently in China on a trade mission. Our head of Defense, James Sakura, is also a shifter and," Nels smirked as he wrote the final name on the page, Lovisa Stromberg, the receptionist.

Are you serious? Lee spoke aloud his incredulity.

Nels leaned back and laughed. Who better? Nothing wiser than to have a strong front line.

True. Tell me, Nels, how is your agenda today?

Nels shot Lee a wary look. I have a light day today. He toggled the computer mouse and brought up his schedule on the screen. He was set to confer with his staff on possible budget cuts at 2:00 pm, otherwise his afternoon was clear.

Just a budget meeting at two I'm sure my staff would love to skip; aside from that...clear sailing. You thinking of a round of golf?

Lee watched Nels eyes light up.

Sorry, friend. I'd like to offer to take you to lunch, but I don't want to be bound by time constraints.

Consider it done. Let me contact Mizuki. Nels picked up his office phone and a muted conversation ensued. With a nod of his head, he replaced the handset. Done. The meeting has been moved to next week; I'm sure nobody will be disappointed except the accountant, and you have me for the afternoon.

He winked at Lee. Where do you want to have lunch? Do you want to go native or have comfort food from home?

Lee, a lopsided grin betraying his answer, rubbed his hands together.

Let's do native!

Sushi it is. I'll call the driver and have him bring the car around. We'll head for Uoisshin. You'll love it. Best raw fish in town; on a conveyor belt, no less.

Lee rose from his chair and walked to the window as Nels contacted the garage for a car and driver. He'd been feeling unsettled since his encounter with the giant in the elevator. His profession, the department of the Army where he worked, was obsessively compulsive about the secrecy surrounding their work.

The large man today had recognized Lee's odd colored eyes for what they were. His sure movements through the building disconcerted Lee. Yet, Nels made no mention of him in his listing of shape shifters working within the embassy walls. This little detail rattled him. He'd have to discover the extent of Nels knowledge, or lack thereof, about the organization.

Apathy could be his worst enemy here. If Nels knew more than he was letting on, Lee would find the truth. If he was as ignorant as he acted, the shifter community was in for a rough ride.

Chapter Four

Stockholm

Olga paced the floor in the living room of their apartment. She'd called Lee, bubbling out her news, but he hadn't come rushing home as she'd hoped.

Never was good at keeping a secret, and his wasn't exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

While he was unable to tell her what he was doing or where he was going on his business trip, she suspected the topic of the international conference they'd attended in China had much to do with her husband's absence. The unsettling subject matter and their friend Dagmar changing into his human form out of the blue at the pre-spring meeting had since been the theme of many a dinner. Her stomach rumbled and she answered.

Hold on. Olga started for the kitchen to retrieve the crackers but dashed to the bathroom when her unsettled tummy revolted against her. She rinsed her mouth out and brushed her teeth, trying desperately not to gag and deposit her complete stomach contents in the toilet. She glared at the haggard face looking back at her from the mirror. Grrr. This is going to be a long nine months.

As soon as Lee came home, she wanted to go back to the ice cavern and seek counsel from the Ancients. She knew how she wanted to approach her impending event, and they had the information she required to complete this task with the least amount of hassle.

Well, a virgin block of Carrara marble calls my name. Olga popped a couple of chewable stomach pills. She'd change into work clothes and head out to her studio on the docks. If she could tolerate the rank smell of the diesel fuel mixed with fish, she might move a few steps closer to completing her final sculpture. When she suspected her condition, she began to work feverishly on the art pieces the state had commissioned. Finishing early would produce a bonus, a nice incentive, and sorely needed, considering her current state of being.

This will fall into place when Lee gets home. I wonder what Petra is doing this evening? Olga locked her door on the way out and speed dialed her best friend. She didn't want to be alone tonight. Dagmar would just have to get used to the fact that when he married Petra, he inherited Olga.

He'll learn to deal with it.

~ * ~

Pushing back his keyboard, Dagmar stood and reached his arms to the ceiling. He'd been working the numbers on this one account for more than two hours. Yes, he was a perfectionist, but something about this account just didn't gel. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the bottom line to balance. His phone buzzed and he grabbed the handset.

Hello?

Nelsson? The gravel sound of his boss' voice was unmistakable.

What is it you need, Bjorn?

You about done with that World Watch file?

I've hit a snag.

The silence at the other end of the line was uncharacteristic. Dagmar shuffled his feet.

What snag?

I can't get the bottom line to zero out.

How far off are you?

Ten dollars.

What!

The explosion of sound in Dagmar's ear made him pull the handset away.

Ten dollars? You're holding up my board meeting for ten dollars? Just email the damned report to me. I'll put the money in myself.

The click at the other end of the line terminated the conversation. Dagmar felt the temperature in the room rise. White spots appeared before his eyes and his head felt as though it was fizzing. Breathe, you fool, breathe. You can't shift in here.

This wasn't the first time he'd banged heads with his boss on this particular account. Every time he worked the numbers for the World Watch organization, there was always last minute additions scurried to his desk with no backup. His reputation as a licensed CPA stood in the balance.

Maybe he was being a bit unrealistic, but the five or ten dollars consistently missing